


Kiss Your Silhouette

by everywinter



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywinter/pseuds/everywinter
Summary: Being constantly torn between kissing Jae senseless and punching her in the neck makes Wonpil's life extremely hard.-The model AU where they're hopelessly smitten, but insist that they hate each other.





	Kiss Your Silhouette

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Hayley Kiyoko's Palace](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnI7n0uoKWc).

“Wow, you two are worse than Bambam described.” Wonpil jumps at Mark’s voice so close to her ear. “I knew the two of you didn’t get along, but this is literally the most annoyed I’ve ever seen you.”

 

“It’s his own fault he couldn’t mind his own business,” Wonpil says, trying to keep her voice light. “I told him, I didn’t want to talk to her.”

 

“You know how Bam is; he just really wants everyone to be happy, and the tension between the two of you is palpable.” Mark gestures to where Jae’s posing against a warm grey backdrop. Her long legs are hugged by a pair of studded, black leather boots up to her thighs and she’s arched back in a way that emphasizes the way the gold paint drips down her arms, held across her chest. Jae’s long, light blue hair brushes against her bare back and Wonpil can’t stop staring.

 

Mark’s hand blocks her view. “Are you even listening to me anymore?”

 

“I’m listening!” She says, smacking his hand away from her face. “Bambam can’t handle tension and has no idea what he’s talking about.”

 

“There was another half of that conversation that you 100 percent ignored. The way you’re staring at her legs could easily be considered sexual harassment in most countries.” Mark sighs, “It’s not like you haven’t been up close and personal with them before anyway.”

 

Wonpil’s full attention immediately snaps back to Mark. “Tell your boyfriend he’s dead to me.”

 

“It’s not his fault, Jinyoung gets chatty when he’s sleepy.” He says, inspecting his nails. “She must have been pretty amazing if you’re still thirsting after her even though you hate her guts.”

 

“Complete opposite, it was awful. Besides, I’m allowed to admire her body objectively even though she has a horrible personality.” Wonpil insists, frantically trying to remember what she’d told Jinyoung about the regretful romp. “Dead fish.”

 

“If you say so.” Mark stares at her for a couple more moments before he shrugs and pulls out his phone instead.

 

She’s still debating if she should accept the out, or argue against the abrupt end to their conversation when Jae lets out an obnoxious burst of laughter and draws Wonpil’s attention back to her. She’s shaking so hard with laughter that her bangs have fallen out of place and Sungjin yells at her to “At least keep your legs still!” as he continues taking shot after shot. Wonpil pulls the light wool jacket, the pride of Jamie’s fall collection, tighter around herself until Jamie yells at her from across the room for stretching her fit.

 

She fucking hates Jae so much.

 

They’d first met at one of Brian’s parties, introduced to one other by the man himself.

 

“Hey, call me Jae.” Her grin was huge, turning her eyes into crescent moons and puffing her cheeks up cutely.

 

“Wonpil.” She said, letting her hands linger as they shook. “Yes, my parents were expecting a boy, and no, they weren’t disappointed with a girl.”

 

Jae laughed. “Geez, is this what constitutes party conversation now?”

 

“It is when I’m a little drunk and more than a little bored.”

 

Jae leaned in closer and Wonpil could smell her shampoo, something fresh and minty.

 

“That’s unfortunate, this party was just starting to get interesting.”

 

Wonpil raised her cup to her lips to hide her smile. “Was it?”

 

“Damn, woman, you are hard to please.” Jae’s hand made its way to the dip of Wonpil’s lower back and she let herself be pulled close. “I like that.”

 

“I live to please.” She lifted her cup to Jae’s lips, watched her throat work as she took a sip, and laughed when she pulled a face.

 

“What’s in that? It’s awful!”

 

“No clue,” Wonpil shrugged, throwing back the rest of it. “I think Namjoon made it.”

 

“That’s dangerous.” Jae took the empty cup out of Wonpil’s hands and put it onto the counter behind them. “How drunk are you, because I don’t take heavily inebriated women anywhere but safely back to their own homes.”

 

“Very admirable of you. Lucky for both of us, I’m only a little drunk, so I’m mostly sober.”

 

Jae’s eyes glittered and shimmered and did all of the disgustingly cliché things that eyes did in the stories. “Wanna get out of here?”

 

“Lead the way.”

 

Wonpil had never been the type to follow, much preferring to carve her own path, but she would have followed Jae anywhere that night. She played her like an instrument, fingertips rough against her thighs, lips soft against her neck, and Wonpil sang for her gladly. The night ended with the two of them tangled up in Jae’s mismatched bedsheets, her long hair tangled and messy, Jae’s bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat.

 

“You really have very good proportions.” Jae said, absently running her hands down Wonpil’s legs. “No wonder you get so many offers despite how short you are.”

 

Something cold ran up Wonpil’s spine. “Excuse me?”

 

“It doesn’t show in pictures,” Jae said in a way that was obviously meant to be reassuring. “must be why you don’t get many runway offers though, huh?”

 

Wonpil had heard similar things before from casting agents, from photographers, from other models, even from a date at one point. She considered herself thick-skinned enough to vent most of her feelings alone, under the covers, in the privacy of her own home. But something about hearing it from this unfairly beautiful, long limbed woman, in what was meant to be post-orgasmic bliss, made her snap.

 

She climbed out of the bed, fuming. “Yeah, well at least I don’t have to rely on weird coloured hair to get work.”

 

“Woah!” Jae shot upright. “Niche is my brand, something you don’t seem to understand how to build, Ms. Pretty and Generic.”

 

“At least I don’t move like a pregnant duck!” She wrestled her dress over her head, thankful that she hadn’t bothered with a bra that day. “I hope you don’t walk the same way you fuck, or it’ll miracle if you get any runway jobs either.”

 

Maybe it was petty that Wonpil stormed out of the apartment before Jae could retaliate, but she’d never pretended to be the bigger person. It wasn’t until she was on the subway, halfway home, that Wonpil realized she’d left her underwear back at Jae’s place. She hated her so fucking much.

 

The thing is, Wonpil had heard worse before, regularly in fact. It was one of the hazards of working in a field where her physical appearance was constantly being scrutinized. She thought that she was used to it. She laughed it off when people said she had the figure of a 12 year old boy, or that her jaw was too square. But being 5’2” was a definite sore spot. She hated having to constantly cart a step-stool around the house to access the top shelves in her own home, and she hated the fact that people still mistook her for a child. The ‘generic and pretty’ comment had been the worst of it. Jae, despite only knowing her for a couple hours, had managed to zero in on all of her soft spots.

 

She stood, naked in front of her bathroom mirror, gently touching the laugh lines around her mouth, brushing the slight line of fuzz on her stomach. Then she straightened, looked herself dead in the eyes. Let her gaze follow slight curve of her breasts and the lean line of her legs. Wonpil took a deep breath in, puffed out her cheeks and pulled a face to make herself laugh. After chugging a glass of water, she tucked herself into bed. She didn’t want dark circles the next morning.

 

The shoot for Jamie’s winter line goes even worse. The two of them are professional to a fault, the pictures are absolutely beautiful, but the second Sungjin lowers his camera, the two of them scurry apart like there’s something toxic on the other’s skin. Wonpil tries her best to stay as far away from Jae as possible, but the studio’s only so big and as skinny as she is, Jae seems to take up a lot of space.

 

It’s in the way she stands, lounges against the walls like she’s stretching in bed instead. The way her laugh rings through the room even as she covers her mouth with her hand. The way her hair falls over her eyes and she peeks through them like she’s getting ready to tell you a secret.

 

Jae’s styled in a pair of fake glasses this time, and when she pushes them up delicately and pouts her lips at the camera, she feels something in her heart clench. Wonpil almost falls into a garbage can, trying to stare at Jae out of the corner of her eye as she walks over to get her makeup touched up.

 

Brian slow claps as she settles herself into the makeup chair. “Subtle. I’d give it a 10/10 for effort, 6/10 for execution.”

 

“Oh, fuck off.” She scowls at him past Dowoon’s hand as he curls her eyelashes. “Don’t you have hair to curl or something?”

 

“Nope, Jae’s always behaves, Kyungsoo shaved his months ago, and there’s so much wax in Junmyeon’s hair, he’s gonna have to rinse and repeat twice to get it all out.” He pulls the sucker out of his mouth with an annoying pop. “Yours is the real issue, but we’re going all dishevelled and sexy today, so I’m saving the finishing touches for when you’re back in place.”

 

Wonpil rolls her eyes. “You mean my glorious mane? My hair’s fabulous, and you love it.”

 

“I like that there’s so much of it.” Brian makes grabby hands in the air. “So much room for activities.”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Dowoon says, shushing Wonpil as he pats gloss onto the centre of her lips. “Don’t eat it off or you’re going to end up with glitter in your teeth.”

 

“Wonpil!” Sungjin shouts from where he’s crouched in front of their set. “Come back, we want more shots of you and Jae.”

 

She resists the urge to groan and takes a deep breath in through her nose instead. Dowoon pats her back sympathetically. He doesn’t have a problem with Jae, quite likes her even, but he knows how angry she makes Wonpil.

 

There’s an armchair made to look like ice and Jae’s standing next to it looking completely nonchalant. It’s not exactly big enough for the both of them.

 

“Alright,” Sungjin says, adjusting cracking his neck before crouching down again. “Pil, get in the chair. Jae, get on top of her.”

 

Wonpil desperately wants to protest and Jae’s face is pinched, but since she doesn’t say anything, Wonpil doesn’t either. She refuses to let Jae win. The chair’s uncomfortable, some sort of strange, slick plastic and it’s hard to stay in place, but Wonpil lounges back like a queen. Jae doesn’t move, looking uncharacteristically unsure, until Wonpil raises her eyebrow. A challenge. Jae immediately climbs into her lap like she belongs there. She tries to wrestle her scowl into something more of a smoulder and it must work because it feels like Sungjin’s trying to blind her with the flash.

 

“Wonpil, lounge back more. Jae, move your arm over- yeah, that’s perfect.”

 

Jae drapes her arm over Wonpil’s shoulder and leans in closer. There’s still a good foot of space between the two of them, Jae’s not even touching her skin, but she can feel the electricity in the air. She bites her lower lip and forces her expression into something cocky. Jae may book more runway, but photoshoots are her wheelhouse.

 

She sits herself up in the chair and tries not to choke on her own tongue when Jae picks up one of her loose curls and brings it up as if to kiss it.

 

“Don’t mess up her hair!” Brian's scream makes both of them jump, and Sungjin immediately spins around to yell at him for disrupting his shoot. The moment’s dead and Wonpil spends the rest of the shoot trying not to stare into Jae’s eyes.

 

The next morning, Wonpil goes for a run. She runs a lot, not just because of her job, but because she likes the sort of mindless nature of it. She likes hiking trails the best, seeing the trees fly by and listening to her music rush along with the blood in her ears. Wonpil runs extra hard today, yesterday’s feelings hot on her heels. It shouldn’t have been special, but somehow it was. She’s too inside her own head and completely misses the tree root. Her ankle gives way under her and she falls so hard it knocks the wind out of her. The dirt cushions her fall and she’s pretty sure she’s just bruised, but Wonpil can already feel her ankle starting to swell. She just lets herself lay in the dirt for a couple seconds and watches the light filter through the trees. Wonpil knows she probably looks pathetic, but she’s just so tired.

 

“Uh, you okay?”

 

_No._

 

Wonpil closes her eyes and presses her palms against them. “I’m totally fine.” This cannot be happening to her. “Please, just leave me be.”

 

She can hear the dirt crunch under Jae’s sneakers as she crouches down next to her. “Come on, get up.”

 

Jae pulls her into an upright position and she finally opens her eyes. Her hair’s pulled into a ponytail, and her bangs are pinned back in a little ‘x’ on the top of her head. She’s sweaty, and there’s a little zit on her cheek, and Wonpil wants to headbutt her in the face.

 

“I’m up, now you can be on your merry little way and we can pretend that you never saw me.”

 

“I can’t leave you here.” Jae protests, gesturing to her ankle. “Look at the size of that thing, we’re still at least 15 minutes away from the parking lot and there’s no way you’re going to be able to make it alone.”

 

“That’s so not your problem.” She stands up, trying her best to not look like she’s favouring the ankle. “I’m going to be fine.”

 

Jae crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine, go on then.”

 

“Fine.” She doesn’t even take two steps before it hurts too much and her leg gives way under her.

 

Jae catches her before she falls. “So, I know you hate me, I don’t feel super fuzzy about you either.” Wonpil scoffs and Jae glares harder. “I’m not leaving you here, just get on my back so we can both go the fuck home.”

 

It’s a battle of wills between the two of them until a breeze blows past, chilling the sweat on Wonpil’s skin and she sneezes. When she opens her eyes again, Jae’s taken off her zip-up and holds it out to her expectantly. Wonpil wants to slap the thing out of her hand, but the sun’s gone behind a cloud and she’s struggling not to shiver. She pulls it on. It’s kind of sweaty and too warm, and honestly kind of gross.

 

“Thank you.”

 

As skinny as she is, Jae’s surprisingly strong. She picks Wonpil up easily and doesn’t even seem to be breathing hard.

 

“Dude, lean forward,” Jae glances at her behind her shoulder. “you’re making this harder for me than it needs to be.”

 

“Sorry.” Wonpil leans forward, tries not to flush at the feeling of Jae’s back against her chest. She hates how meek she sounds. Her hands against Wonpil’s bare thighs make her think of the same scenario under different circumstances, and even though they’re both sweaty and sticking together, she’s disappointed to see the parking lot.

 

Jae gently lowers her next to the driver’s side door of her car. “You gonna be okay getting home alone?”

 

“It’s my left ankle, and I drive an automatic.” She clears her throat, hands the sweater back to Jae. “Thank you.”

 

If she speeds a little on her way home and spends too long in the shower with the memory of Jae’s hands on her thighs, that’s her business.

 

Her hair’s still wet and she’s laying down on her couch, staring at the ceiling when she just can’t take it anymore.

 

Jinyoung picks up on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

 

“Can you come over? Something happened and I really need to talk to you.”

 

“Is this a life-threating type of something happened, or you did something ill-advised type of something happened?”

 

“The second one.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Bring booze.”

 

When Wonpil opens her front door, four pairs of eyes blink back at her.

 

“What the fuck, I said booze, not boys.” She ushers everyone into the apartment anyway. “We’re having a bitch-fest, not a frat party.”

 

“Hey, I resent that!” Jackson says, clutching the plastic bag in his hands to his chest. “After I went through all the trouble of finding you that lychee soju you like so much too.”

 

“I take it back, you’re very welcome in my home.”

 

Jaebum rolls his eyes and shoves Jackson fondly. “You literally were in a frat, I don’t get why you’re offended.”

 

“It was an academic frat and it’s the principle of the thing!” Jackson protests, pressing the cold bottle into Wonpil’s hands. “And Mark was in a frat too!”

 

Mark doesn’t respond, focusing his attention on Wonpil as she hobbles back over to the couch. “Are you okay?”

 

Wonpil props her foot up on the coffee table and lets Jackson stuff a couple of the couch cushions under it. “Hurts like a mother-fucker, but I’ll live. I fell during my run this morning.”

 

Jaebum carefully inspects the swollen ankle, gently prodding it with his fingers. “I’m just going to assume you didn’t ice this, because this looks absolutely awful.” He took the ice pack that Jackson hands to him with a nod and presses it against her ankle. “I’ll set the alarm for 20 minutes, but if it starts hurt, take it off.”

 

“Oh, so commanding, you’re going to give me a heart attack.” Jackson flops onto the bed next to Wonpil, clenching his chest. “You know CPR, you’re going to have to take responsibility and save me, Jaebumie.”

 

He narrows his eyes, but his ears are flushed. “Then perish.”

 

Jackson lets out an outraged squeak while Mark bursts into laughter.

 

“Ugh,” Jinyoung scrunches up his nose and passed everyone a glass while Jaebum placed various bottles and cans onto the coffee table. “stop encouraging him, I invited you guys along for gossip, not to watch the two of you flirt.”

 

“Oh, speaking of gossip, does your story have anything to do with a certain blue haired somebody?” Mark crouches down next to Wonpil and puts his head in his hands, blinking up at her innocently. “Tell us everything.”

 

The story starts out rather calm, but as Wonpil drinks more heavily the story becomes more elaborate.

 

“I swear to god, she hoisted me up on her back, didn’t even break a sweat!”

 

Jaebum’s eyes narrow. “Seriously, Park Jaehee? I’ve seen her struggle to push the marble into a bottle of Ramune before.”

 

“No, I swear to god,” Wonpil insists, grabbing Jaebum’s shoulder. “not a sweat. I mean, she was sweaty beforehand because she was running, but she was so steady.” She flops forward into Jaebum’s lap and he pats her on the back clumsily. “And her hands, oh my god, her hands.”

 

“So, you’re saying that your worst enemy literally popped up out of nowhere when you were a damsel in distress.” Jackson’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his head. “This is some rom-com, romance novel type shit. You got to live the fucking dream.”

 

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s no way Jae’s gonna be able to carry your fat-ass down a mountain.” Jaebum says blandly.

 

He rolls his eyes when Wonpil flips over to grin up at him. “Jaebumie are you jealous?”

 

Jaebum glares at Jackson instead. “Even she’s calling me that now! This is all your fault.”

 

“Not that this conversation isn’t interesting, but can we get back to the topic at hand?” Jinyoung says, “I thought you hated her?”

 

“I do hate her,” Wonpil insists, “she’s annoying, obnoxious, talks too loud, and takes up too much space.”

 

“How does she take up too much space?” Mark interrupts, “Jae turns sideways and you pretty much lose track of her.”

 

“Yo, now that you mention it, she is all limbs.” Jackson slurs, “She’s an awesome badminton player, but sometimes it seems like the racket’s just dragging her around.”

 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wonpil pops up so quickly she almost headbutts Jaebum in the chin. “You’ve seen her on the runway, you know she’s graceful when it counts. Have you seen the way she moves her hands when she’s on a shoot? Or, like, the way her neck arches when she flips her hair back.”

 

She takes a deep drink out of her glass and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Yeah, she can’t dance worth shit, and she does that weird blinking thing, but she’s so pretty. She’s got this jawline that I want to cut myself on, and I want to kiss her nose, and her neck, and her lips are always dry for some reason, but holy shit her lips. Sometimes, when Dowoon glosses them, I’m not sure if I want to punch him in the nose or send him a gift basket, it makes my life so damn difficult. It’s almost worse when Dowoon doesn’t do anything to them though, because then Jae keeps biting her lips and they get all pink and stuff, and it makes _me_ want to bite her lip and you guys know about my self-control issues.”

 

Everyone’s quiet. Jinyoung’s giving her a resigned look, Jaebum and Mark both have grins on their faces, and Jackson’s fighting back his laughter so hard that a deep flush is slowly starting to creep up his neck.

 

“Dude,” Mark’s voice breaks the silence. “you’re fucked.”

 

“I know!” She wails, “It was bad enough when I just wanted to get into her pants, since she’s such a giant jerk, but now that she’s been nice to me, I think my resolve is crumbling!”

 

“One good deed’s all it takes?” Jaebum laughs.

 

“You had resolve?” Jinyoung teases, “Seriously though, we all already knew you were thirsty for her.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m scared I’m going to get thirsty for her personality too!”

 

Wonpil sees Mark mouth “What?” and Jinyoung while his shoulders shake in silent laughter, but she barrels on.

 

“Yeah, she laughs really loud but it’s a cute laugh. And one time, I caught the tail-end of a joke she was telling Brian and it was seriously so funny I almost bit through my lip trying not to react. She doesn’t mind helping out either, you know? I’ve seen her help Sungjin with the lights and stuff when the assistant’s doing something else. She didn’t even get mad that time the caterers accidentally jammed her finger with the lunch cart and had to get a splint for it. That was a sad day for me though, because Jae’s hands are pretty fucking phenomenal. Have you seen those things? They’d make a concert pianist cry, and holy shit, the things she can do-”

 

Jinyoung’s hand shoots out to cover her mouth before she can continue. “I think we get the idea.”

 

Jackson turns to Jaebum with a pout. “Why do you never talk about me like that?”

 

“Talk is cheap.” He immediately launches himself onto Jackson and the two of them begin furiously making out, until Mark shoves the both of them off the couch with an outstretched leg.

 

Everyone spends the night, and Wonpil wakes up sandwiched between Jackson and Jaebum in her bed, Jinyoung and Mark on her couch, and the world’s worst hangover. She’s never drinking again.

 

Of course, that means the next weekend Wonpil finds herself in a strange club grinding against some guy with dreadlocks and abs she could grate cheese on. She’s drunker than is probably wise, but dreadlock guy’s a fantastic dancer and the feeling of his hips against hers sends delightful little shivers up her spine. His hands get bolder, creeping up the front of her shirt, and his lips touch her neck and Wonpil decides to make her exit. She wiggles her way out of his arms and dreadlock guy pouts for a second before giving her a boyish smile and wandering off to find someone else to dance with.

 

Wonpil’s pressed between Sana and Dahyun, just letting herself move along to the music when she opens her eyes, and like some sort of bad cliché, Jae walks up the stairs. Her hair’s pulled back into a messy bun and the lighting in the club makes her skin glow. She looks like some sort of otherworldly being sent with the sole purpose of making Wonpil’s life difficult. They make eye-contact and it must be a testament to either how drunk she is, or how stubborn she is, but Wonpil doesn’t look away. She throws herself back against Sana instead, lets her head fall back and her long curtain of hair play over the other woman’s body while Dahyun rolled her hips back against hers.

 

Jae’s eyes get hot and when Kevin gestures over to the seats where Eric and Jamie are already, she shakes her head and brushes him off instead. Kevin’s back is to her, but when Jae shakes her head he follows her gaze and sees Wonpil. His eyes get wide and a giddy grin immediately stretches itself across his face before he smacks Jae on the back and leaves to go find their friends on his own.

 

There’s six feet and at least ten people between them, but Jae’s staring at her so hard that Wonpil can feel it on her skin. The phantom grip of her hands against her thighs makes Wonpil bite down on her lip to keep from making some truly inappropriate noises, but Jae obviously notices the effect she’s having. She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head to the side, a long strand of her hair falling out of her bun. Wonpil goes to her.

 

They don’t say anything, but Wonpil follows her into the bathroom and Jae presses her up against the door of the bathroom stall and kisses her hard. She’s touching her, long fingers running through her sweaty hair and pulling her close so they’re chest to chest. Jae’s everywhere; she can feel the hard corner of her phone digging into her hip and taste the whiskey on her lips. It feels like they’re there forever before someone gets impatient and bangs on the door of the stall, startling Jae enough that she lets out an actual scream.

 

Wonpil wants to pull back as if scalded, but Jae’s has her arms wrapped around her waist, a hand tangled in her hair. Her pupils are blown wide and her lips are kiss red and swollen. She looks like a mess and Wonpil feels a sharp stab of arousal over the fact that she’s the one who made her this way. Perfect, pretty Jae, completely undone by her.

 

“Come home with me.” She whispers against the shell of her ear.

 

She hears Jae swallow hard. “You’re drunk.”

 

“I am,” Wonpil agrees, “but so are you.”

 

“We shouldn’t.” Her voice is frim, but Jae’s eyes haven’t left her lips.

 

“Probably not, but I want to.”

 

The girl on the other side of the bathroom door bangs against it again.

 

 _Please say yes_. Wonpil won’t say it, but she’s always worn her heart on her sleeve and Jae studies her intently in the ugly florescent light.

 

Jae spends the night.

 

They don’t talk much at all, and Jae’s gone by the time Wonpil wakes up in the morning, but something between them shifts.

 

The next shoot they have is for Brian's passion project. Something that involves a lot of toplessness and strategically placed hair. Dowoon's smudged dark liner all the way around Jae’s eyes and made them look sunken and deep, the natural pink of her lips dulled by foundation. She’s wearing this leather kilt/skirt hybrid and tall boots with shining silver buckles all the way up, and if Sungjin keeps telling Wonpil to move her hand up higher, this is going to end up being a softcore porn shoot.

 

They take Wonpil’s solo shots first, so she hangs around to mess around with Dowoon and grill him on how his latest Tinder date went. She watches Jae out of the corner of her eye. Jae’s hair doesn’t seem to be doing a whole lot to keep her warm, and even with the heat lamps that they’ve put in the room, she’s shivering by the end of the shoot. Sungjin calls it a wrap and Jae immediately bolts over to the makeup chair and wraps the robe she brought from home around her as tight as she can. It’s a flimsy little satin thing and doesn’t seem to be doing a whole lot.

 

“Here,” It’s like someone else is controlling Wonpil’s movements and she’s holding her scarf out to Jae. “you can borrow this.”

 

It’s her favourite scarf. 100 percent wool without being itchy, the perfect shade of maroon, and she’d gotten it for a steal on clearance.

 

“Thank you.” Jae wraps it around herself and the colour plays off her light hair and pale skin.

 

“No problem, I’ll find you later.”

 

Dowoon’s face is so red he looks like he’s about to explode with all the things he’s not saying, so Wonpil power walks over to the set and pretends to help clean up instead. Sungjin’s squinting at the screen of his laptop where he’s rapidly scrolling through the pictures from their shoot. There’s a little wrinkle in his forehead and while he doesn’t look upset, he seems confused.

 

“Everything okay?” She leans over to look at the photo. It’s one with her and Jae wrapped around one another, hair falling in front of their faces, blue merging into black.

 

He flips to the next picture. It shows Wonpil’s side profile, highlighting the elaborate braids Brian had put into her hair. Jae’s watching her, face relaxed, lips pressed in a gentle smile. “Yeah, it’s fine. You two just feel different today. Can’t really put my finger on why.”

 

It puts Wonpil so off kilter that she makes a weak excuse about having left a load of laundry in the wash and pretty much sprints all the way to the train station. It isn’t until she’s halfway home that she realizes Jae still has her scarf.

 

Wonpil bumps into Jae running again. Her hair’s pulled back in a low ponytail and she’s wearing yoga pants and a different sweater.

 

They make eye-contact, nod, but don’t say anything. They’re both listening to their own music after all, but Jae slows her pace to run alongside Wonpil. She tries her best to concentrate on the path rather than the sweat running down Jae’s neck, the way her chest rises and falls with her breathing.

 

At the end of their run, Jae offers Wonpil her water when she realizes that she’s forgotten her bottle at home. They still haven’t spoken, but it feels nice. It feels right.

 

“See you tomorrow?” Jae asks before she hops into her car.

 

Wonpil nods, smiles and waves as she drives away.

 

They run together every single morning for the rest of the week. They have very limited contact in the beginning, Wonpil initiating small talk. By the third day they’re talking all the way through their run, lingering by Jae’s car, pretending to cool down while they talked and talked and talked. Jae tells her a story that makes her laugh so hard that they have to stop running entirely at one point.

 

“What are you doing after this?”

 

Wonpil wipes her forehead with her towel and glances at her watch. “Probably just going to go home to shower. Maybe drink a peanut butter banana smoothie or something.”

 

“That was unexpectedly detailed, but okay.” Jae fiddles with the end of her hair, in a single long braid today. “Come have breakfast with me.”

 

“Is that a question or a demand?” Wonpil points at where her shirt’s sticking to her with sweat. “And like this?”

 

“Why not?”

 

She opens and closes her mouth a couple times but nothing even remotely believable comes to mind. As before, Jae beckons and she follows.

 

Sitting across from each other, her bare legs sticking to the cheap vinyl, Wonpil feels uncomfortable again. Jae’s picking the wrapper of her straw into little tiny pieces and she instinctively reaches across and smacks her across the back of the hand.

 

“Stop that, you’re making a mess for the server.”

 

“Sorry.” She puts her hands in her lap like a chastised child. “Listen, I know we’re in a pretty good place now, but I’ve gotta know why you hated me so much.”

 

Wonpil doesn’t know where to look. “You said I was short.”

 

“Oh.” Jae seems to totally understand in that moment. Her eyes soften and she reaches across to hold Wonpil’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

 

She squeezes back. “I’m sorry too.”

 

It feels like the end of something. It feels like the beginning of something new.

 

They start bickering during shoots, teasing each other and sending each other little glances from across the room. The energy between the two of them shifts to something warmer, something more alive. It suits Jamie and Sungjin just fine, adds something more to the photographs.

 

Jamie’s spring line is all floral to the extreme. Her standout pieces are two dresses made entirely of silk flowers. Wonpil has no idea how, but the flowers feel cool and soft against her skin and the colours to them are so gently bended that she’s surprised they don’t wilt and turn brown in front of her eyes. The little blue forget-me-nots match Jae’s hair and she gets the eerie feeling that it was intentional.

 

Jae’s dress is a long ball gown, blush roses tinged with a pale yellow, and when she spins, it flairs around her ankles. Her feet are bare and Wonpil makes a weird squeaking noise. Jae turns in the direction of the noise and gives her a look so salacious Wonpil has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from completely losing it. She raises an eyebrow and walks towards the stairwell.

 

It doesn’t take five minutes before Jae’s sweeping in after her. They make out, careful not to ruin their clothes, before Brian comes bursting in through the door yelling at them for smearing makeup all over each other. They walk back into the room with everyone’s eyes on them as Dowoon scolds them while fixing their makeup, but it’s easy to see their friends are genuinely happy for them.

 

“Stop smiling,” He swats Jae on her bare arm. “you’re going to get lipstick on your teeth!”

 

“Sorry.” She looks entirely insincere, eyes having never left Wonpil from where she’s sitting in the fake grass for her shoot. Jae blows her such an exaggerated kiss that Wonpil can’t help bursting into laughter. Her bare legs are crossed at the ankle in front of her, instinctively leaning towards Jae, genuine beam on her face, eyes crinkled in laughter and face bright. Sungjin yells at her to pay attention, even as he rapidly takes shot after shot. Jae lights up even more and Wonpil feels her heart clench.

 

The picture that’s picked to head Jamie’s spring campaign is one from that moment, her head thrown back in laughter, relaxed and happy in the grass.

 

(The one that Sungjin sends Jae to make into her wallpaper is one taken immediately after. Wonpil’s still in the same pose, but her expression’s different. Her smile’s tender, lips parted as if she’s getting ready to say someone’s name, and the look in her eyes is intimate. Jae makes it her phone wallpaper and the first time Wonpil sees it, she jumps into Jae’s arms and kisses her senseless in right there in the car.)

 

They wrap up the shoot and Jae swipes a makeup wipe over her face, efficiently revealing her clean, smooth skin underneath. She’s dressed back in her street clothes, always too big, and Wonpil pulls her close and kisses her deep.

 

“God damn it,” They pull away to see Sungjin standing with his hands on his hips, looking fondly exasperated. “this is almost worse than when the two of you hated each other. Now you’re eye-fucking in the middle of my shoots, and making out in the middle of the studio? You couldn’t wait until you got home?”

 

Jae trembles with laughter and she wraps her arms tighter against Wonpil’s waist, presses a kiss to her cheek. “Nope.”

 

Wonpil turns back and they kiss again until Sungjin starts throwing stray props at them. The flowers bounce off their backs and when Jae turns around to yell at him, one lands directly in her mouth. Wonpil laughs as she spits it out, spluttering.

 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” She holds her hand out for Wonpil after she’s done yelling at Sungjin. “I have a hankering for bubble tea.”

 

“Only if you’re paying.” Wonpil lets Jae wrap her maroon scarf around her neck and pull her in for another kiss.

 

“So needy.”

 

“You love it.”

 

Jae’s lip twitches and instead of the usual smart remark, she says, “I do.”

 

The warmth spreads from their intertwined hands all the way to Wonpil’s chest. She loves her so much.

**Author's Note:**

> This. Just really got away from me. Initially the model au and f/f au were two different things, but then I was like. I just really like pretty girls clinging to each other for the sake of 'fashion'.
> 
> Jae and Wonpil's flower dresses inspired by [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hanacotoba_jp>this</a>%20artist.%0A%0A<a%20href=)/[Tumblr](https://everywinter.tumblr.com/)/[CC](https://curiouscat.me/everywinter)


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